Wednesday, December 28, 2011

From the Review Archive: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

This was my very first review, from 2005.  Be gentle...


OK.  Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.  My.  It's really hard to gather my thoughts.  I wish I could write clever and incisive reviews like all my friends do.  I get too muddled.  Anway, our seats were fabulous and comfy, all the staff there were charming and delightful.  We knew the show wasn't going to be good, but we were determined to have fun anyway.

Well, we did have fun.  We always have fun.  But.  Oh. My. God.  I didn't imagine the depths of the awfulness of this show.  It's really REALLY bad.  Did I say it was bad?  It's bad.  And EVERYONE IN THE CAST KNOWS IT.  It was sloppy and uninspired, along with being bad.

I hold the director completely responsible.  And anyone who knows the director.  How could he put that stuff on stage?  Did no one say to him, um, putting another flashing set piece on stage will not mask the fact that the book is terrible?!  Obviously not.  It's soulless and practically a slap in the face/offensive to anyone who cares about theater.

I could almost wrap my brains around the total differences in acting styles and character development--Raul and his family can be understated and "real," while the Vulgarians (led by the DIVINE and she should be paid TRIPLE what she's getting Jan Maxwell) are, well, vulgar and big and cartoony.  Fine.  But then be consistent with that choice!  Don't have chorus members with giant clown heads come dancing into the windmill house while Raul is singing his guts out during "Hushabye Mountain"!  Let him have his real goshdarned moment, for heaven's sake!  Can't he have one?  And my.  I love Raul and he sang divinely (and looked adorable in the ridiculous lederhosen), but I don't know what in the heck he was doing.  His character is supposedly eccentric and distracted, but he was just odd.  Creepy almost.  Borderline mental.  And the kid playing his son spoke as if he had just come out of a Korean mental hospital.  So perhaps Raul was trying for some sort of filial mental relationship thing.  Perhaps.

My pal was all for leaving at intermission, understandably, but I had to stick it out.  God love him for staying with me.  The second act is marginally better than the first, in that it's MUCH shorter and the divine Jan Maxwell has two numbers and makes you remember that musicals are fun AND mean something.  BUT: imagine me sitting in the theater, looking like the audience in the movie of The Producers during "Springtime for Hitler," mouth agape, when the Nosferatu Child Catcher came on.  His number scared the crap out of ME!  In a BAD way!  Who told him to be that way?!  And he said ok?!?!  Or he came up with it himself?!?!  And the director said ok?!?!?  He carries a scythe and LICKS IT!  Excuse me?!

There's so much to tell and so little time to tell it.  But, may I just conclude with the oddest (out of many odd choices) event of the evening:  we're at the end (thank god) of the show and the car is flying over us (and the car flying is cool, so at least there's that).  All of a sudden, you hear the Child Catcher behind us saying "I'll be back!  I'll get you!  I'll be back!"   Just guess what happens next.

Wait for it.  Wait for it.

Yes.  You guessed it.  Truly Scrumptious pulls a RIFLE OUT OF THE BACK SEAT OF CHITTY CHITTY BANG BANG AND KILLS THE CHILD CATCHER.  Then silver confetti falls.  We are covered with silver confetti meant to signify the exploded DNA of the Child Catcher.  I needed a shower.  And perhaps therapy.

It was bad.  But I did buy my nephew a car.  ;)

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